Near my home, at the bottom of a hillside, there is a shelf just above a road-cut where the soil is moist from the groundwater seeping out of the hill. Back in April the first coiled cinnamon fern (Osmundastrum cinnamomeum) fiddleheads pushed up through the ground.
Huddled with heads bowed in a tight group, clad in shaggy off-white wool as if anticipating the chill, their forms glinted in the morning light as they caught the dew. [Read more…] about Cinnamon Fern Through the Lens of Time
